


Arma Virumque Cano

by Chash



Series: Neeeeeeeeeerds [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 03:25:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3713041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy takes over the mythology club. Clarke comes too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arma Virumque Cano

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think I'm going to do any other long works in this 'verse, but I do want to do some Bellamy POV stuff and probably cover Raven and Wick's total shitshow of a wedding, so might as well put it in a series! This part is just some quick fluff with Bellamy during freshman year. Title from the Aeneid, even though Aeneas is a total whiner.

"Why aren't you doing the mythology club?"

Bellamy is making macaroni and cheese for dinner while Octavia sits at the kitchen counter doing her history homework. Echo's working late, and Bellamy feels guilty that these are his favorite days. He likes Octavia's aunt, is going to owe her for the rest of his life and then some, but when it's just the two of them, he can pretend it's their mom who's at work, and that she'll be back any minute.

"Because it's for middle schoolers," he tells Octavia.

"Not like _that_ ," she huffs. "Why aren't you running it?"

"Because I'm a freshman."

"The guy who does it sucks," she says, and immediately adds, "Not, like, as a person. But as a mythology teacher. He's really boring, and he says the names wrong. I had to correct him."

Bellamy leans over the pot of macaroni to hide his smile. "I'll see what I can do."

*

He goes to the meeting the next week and has to admit Octavia's right. Nyko's not bad, but he has no idea how to make the stories interesting, and he's clearly not particularly comfortable with the middle-schoolers. Bellamy offers a couple tips, in a totally non-threatening, non-domineering way, just friendly advice, but Nyko sees right through him.

"It's yours if you want it," he says. "I don't really give a shit."

He's thinking about what the club needs in English the next day when he glances out the window and sees Clarke Griffin sitting on the grass with what he assumes is her art class, drawing a comic of Raven and Wick working on the catapult. The wind is blowing her hair and she keeps having to tuck it back behind her ear, and it makes him smile for some reason. 

He doesn't realize he's staring at her until Miller kicks his chair.

*

"I was thinking it'd be nice if we had some art or activities or something for the myth club," he tells Ms. Cartwig that afternoon, casual. "I can't draw, but I know we have some artists around. Didn't that Persephone drawing win the art contest at the last convention?"

If she realizes he already knows exactly who won, her face doesn't give it away. "Yes. That was Clarke Griffin's. You could ask if she'd be willing to help out."

"We don't get along that well," he admits. "She might take it better coming from you."

She does look amused at that, but Clarke comes up to him in Latin the next day and says, "Ms. Cartwig said you needed art for something?" so he can't complain too much.

*

She shows up on Thursday with four black-and-white drawings of the story of Daedalus and Icarus and twenty copies of the shitty word search he made during his downtime at work on Sunday. She's drawn some doodles of mythological creatures around the border, and it looks so much better.

"I'll color the ones for next week," she says. "Sorry."

"No, this is great," he says, impressed in spite of himself. "I didn't really expect this much."

"I'm awesome," she says brightly.

To his horror, she doesn't leave after dropping off the stuff. She goes to the table in the back of Ms. Cartwig's room, pulls out her sketchbook, and props her feet up. Not only is she not leaving, she's settling in.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" he asks.

"Nope. And it'll help if I see how the meeting goes. I'll have a better idea of what you're looking for for next time."

The answer is completely reasonable and even considerate, but Bellamy can't bring himself to trust her. There's something about her sunny smile that seems dangerous.

He gets the art taped up on the white board as the kids file in, and then gives them his best attempt at a welcoming smile. It's not really an expression that's in his wheelhouse these days, but they at least don't seem scared. "Hey, I'm Bellamy Blake, I'm going to be leading the meetings from now on," he says. In the back, Clarke clears her throat, and every single kid turns to look at her. "That's Clarke," he says grudgingly. "She's helping." She waves without looking up from her drawing, and he can tell the kids are already won over. Of course. "So, who remembers Daedalus from last week?" Only about half the kids raise their hands, which was about what he expected. "Anyone want to tell me what he did?"

The kids sit in awkward silence, fidgeting and not looking at him, and then Clarke says, "He built a wooden cow so a lady could hook up with a bull." All the kids burst out laughing.

"Octavia?" says Bellamy, on the grounds that maybe if he ignores Clarke, she'll disappear.

"He built the labyrinth," she says promptly. He's buying her a cookie on the way home.

"To imprison the Minotaur the lady had after she hooked up with the bull," says Clarke.

"Princess, if you can't keep your remarks to yourself, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." The kids are watching them like they're a stand-up team or something, and much as he hates to admit it, it's the most engaged he's seen them so far.

"Sorry," she says, with no hint of contrition. "Keep going. You're doing a great job."

"Your support means the world to me." Octavia is giving him a calculating look he doesn't like at all, so he turns back to the board. "Okay, so Daedalus is imprisoned with his son, Icarus."

They get through the rest of the club with only a few interjections from Clarke, and he thinks it goes well. The worst part is really that her timing is _great_ , pulling him back from the weird tangents only he cares about and spicing up some of the less exciting parts of the stories. Her art is a hit, she's a hit, and she's making him look better.

He wants to hate her so much.

At the end of the meeting, she hands him a drawing of Medusa. It's in color, and it's really badass. "Perseus next, right? Same time next week?"

"Same time next week."

*

In the car, Octavia announces, "I like Clarke."

"Of course you do, you're both huge pains in my ass."

"She's funny and she's not scared of you," Octavia continues, like he hadn't said anything. Bellamy's uncomfortably aware of how close that is to her assessment of Miller. Octavia thinks everyone who isn't afraid of Bellamy is good for him. "And she's really pretty."

Clarke isn't really his type--he likes tall brunettes, mostly--but he's not so blind that he doesn't know she's objectively attractive. "I'll see if I can get you her number," he says. "But no dating until you're fifteen."

She rolls her eyes. "You're an idiot, Bell," she tells him, and she's probably right.

*

The next year, he doesn't even pretend he's going to do the club alone.

"So, I'm thinking about expanding mythology club to Tuesdays and Thursdays," he says, as they're working on their chemistry lab. As in JCL, they're actually a really good team. "Does that work for you?"

There's a smudge of ink just above her lip when she looks up, and he wants to wipe it off. He still doesn't _like_ her, but he's given up pretending he doesn't want to drag her into an empty classroom and make out with her until they can't breathe.

"Tuesday and Thursday?"

"Yeah. Unless there's a better second day for you. I'm flexible."

She smiles down at their Bunsen burner, like she doesn't want him to see it. "No, that's fine. Great, actually. I love having excuses to not go home."

It sounds like the kind of thing she didn't mean to say, or didn't mean to say to him, so he ignores it. He doesn't know what her home life is like, but he has trouble imagining it can actually be that bad. "Okay, well, first meeting in two weeks."

"Are we starting with the creation of the world? Gaia? And then--how far? Titans, Chronos eating his kids?" She taps her pen on her notebook. "If we're doubling meetings, it would be good if we came up with a tentative curriculum. Nothing set in stone, but that way I can get ahead on the art and stuff before school gets busy. Are you free tomorrow? Or do you have work?"

It takes him a minute to parse the question. She wants to spend her Saturday making sure the club is in good shape, and she's planning around his work schedule. It makes him blush, for some reason. "Uh, one to nine. At the coffee shop."

She nods. "We could meet up there before your shift, unless you don't want to be there longer. Or I could do Sunday if that's better." Her smile is clear and understanding without being patronizing. He doesn't know how she manages it. "I know your weekends are more booked than mine."

"Coffee shop is fine," he says, not meeting her eyes. "11:30? I need to have lunch too."

"Sure. Give me your number, just in case."

They exchange numbers and when he gets home, he spends a long time just staring at her name in his contacts, not quite believing it's there, that he could call her or text her whenever he wanted.

After what feels like the hundredth time he scrolls past her name, he gives in and admits it: he _likes_ Clarke Griffin. And he's definitely screwed.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Podfic - Arma Virumque Cano](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795844) by [bienenalster (pinkspider)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkspider/pseuds/bienenalster)




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